The Ballad of Mona Lisa
by Victoria Kathleen Wright
Summary: AU. Non-magic. The year is 1842. When Lady Ginevra Weasley is mistakenly exiled to the most ominous and secretive asylum of all time, she meets none other than someone who is either her salvation or doom.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Or the song. Or the amazing band. Or its gorgeous lead singer.**

**Yes, I know. I should be working on my other stories. At least the most recent one. But with plotbunnies divebombing me from everywhere, and me being... well... me, that's sorta impossible. Not that any of them ar on hiatus. Or less loved.**

**I really have a period fetish right about now. Excuse all the short sentences in this foreword. The prologue itself is fine.**

**This story was created because I fell in love with Panic! At the Disco, Brendon Urie, and the lovely song "The Ballad of Mona Lisa". It describes the T/G relationship perfectly, and it also helps that Brendon looks exactly I think Tom does.**

**Although this story is set in the 1800s and is non-magic, I think you can identify the Harry Potter world in it. Right?**

**Well, enjoy.**

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><p><strong><span>The Ballad of Mona Lisa<span>**

**Prologue**

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><p>In 1792, a small house was discovered on the west coast of Britain, and the leaders of the the great nation rejoiced. Here, at last, was one place, one jail, one imprisonment that was truly solitary.<p>

The seedy little shack sat a mile from the edge of the nearest town, an equally dodgy type of village that housed only the shadiest and most unimportant of characters. All of these factors just further perfected the beauty of the dark, crumbling mansion.

For a mansion it had once been - a gorgeous, looming hotel over a century ago that only the most prominent and wealthy of personalities visited. It was the front porch of all amazing rumors and gossip...

Until it slowly disappeared and the world went on without it, not even bothering to speculate on its absence.

But then it had been found again - for a much different purpose.

They founded it quickly but reluctantly. After all, it was a great discovery but one that would only be great if hidden. They would receive no credit, but their patriotism surpassed their pride.

Or so they believed.

The first true resident of Mercenary Asylum had completely differing beliefs regarding the purpose of it.

What was it? Nothing more than a way to keep the "insane" out of the public eye. Out of the way.

He came to Mercenary with no fears - after all, what was his life but a tumultous ride around the deepest, darkest places in the world?

However, for once in his life, he found a bit of light. Here was a town that he wasn't _that _out of place in. Here was a person dark _and _light enough to be, well, almost a friend.

He had no purpose in life but to survive - and make some mark on the world before finally leaving it forever.

The last, though, didn't exactly happen the way it was planned...

For that matter, for Thomas Marvolo Riddle, neither did the first.

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><p><strong>xxx He's so freaking adorable.<strong>

**Chapter 1 will be up in about an hour. I know, impressive, right?**

**:D**

**REVIEW!**

**Love,**

**Toria**


	2. Chapter I

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

**You'll notice a quote at the beginning of the chapter, usually from the song itself or another P!ATD song I love.**

**A picture of my Tom? Look up Brendon Urie.**

**There may be typos; please just ignore them...**

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><p><strong>The Ballad of Mona Lisa<strong>

**Chapter 2**

_**"She paints her fingers with a close precision...**_

_**He starts to notice empty bottles of gin... **_

_**And takes a moment to assess the sins she's paid for..."**_

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><p><em>November 12, 1852<em>

The small town of Serpent's Hollow never slept, but lived on in a continuous cycle.

So, this day, like all others, began with the "official" opening of the the town's bar, the "official" waking up of its citizens, the "official" slinking away of the shady characters back to their dens...

And the docking of the ship that came every once a month. The small ship, more of a boat really, came despite the fact that its own hometown was less than a hundred miles away. However, nobody seemed to feel it necessary to cross the countryside simply for old Serpent's Hollow.

This boat had exactly two purposes:

1. Bring news of the outside world (not that anybody used news for anything other than gossip and grumblings) and

2. Drop off any new Mercenary Asylum residents.

Ah yes, Mercenary Asylum lived on - fifty years after its first resident. Incidents like his continued to happen over and over again, and it truly wasn't any huge surprise to the villagers to see a new resident - though, they still treated it as such.

For Mercenary Asylum was one place that even the toughest of the toughest avoided - and, mind you, there was a large number of tough people in Serpent's Hollow.

Mercenary Asylum surpassed everything the seedy little town of Serpent's Hollow stood for.

A large crumbling gate led into large, unkempt grounds teeming with mystery - and beyond the gate stood the true haunted house - the one in your mind's eye when you thought of the home of magic and supernatural. The monstrous, weathered manor loomed above any passerby and could be seen miles away - not that anybody gave it more than a glance out of fear.

Enough of that, though. Mercenary Asylum was nothing new to the town. However, each of its residents were. And today, after a full year of vacancy, there was finally a new one.

But the whispers began as soon as she stepped out of the ship and onto the dock.

_A woman - impossible! There has never been a woman sent here before in all these years!_

_And - look at that - she can't be more than a girl! What _were _they thinking up there?_

_And she's no mere girl, at that... I _know _I've seen her somewhere..._

But the girl stalked through them, her head held high amidst all the hushed noise, never sparing more than a disinterested glance for any of the villagers. The captain, standing a head shorter than her, kept looking around nervously as he alwys did when forced to get off the sanctuary of his boat. However, credit must be given to him for completing his duty and escorting her throughout the parade that had gathered throughout all ten miles of Serpent's Hollow.

The woman was a true mystery - her chin held high, her scarlet hair streaming down her back, and her eyes covered by a black lace veil. She walked with definite grace, with shoulders arched back, and her gown drifted around her ankles and boots. Although her attire looked out of place in the mangy little town, her closed-off, wary stance made everybody take to her immediately. Her hands may have been cuffed, yet she seemed as sane as any of them - although, that wasn't saying too much, now was it?

They were her new neighbors, were they? Well, they seemed better than the last ones she had, yes. It was like those adventures she'd always read in those books she'd sneak into her chambers. She'd wished to have one, and now here it was.

Finally her poor, trembling escort reached the dark gates on the edge of the dark village. She followed behind him, gently as not to scare him more. The dark gates were seemingly meant to be scary, and truthfully, they did indeed terrify her - but what could she possible else feel?

In that moment, it finally hit her. Everybody - _everybody _had sold her out. There was no one in the world left for her to trust. They all thought her some sort of loony. No, not a loon - a terible, sadistic, betraying murdress.

Well, good for them.

If all those years, all that _shared blood _meant nothing to then they weren't worth any of it.

This would become worth it, she thought, looking up at the cracked windows, and puffing chimney.

"OI! Move out of the way, you scumbags! Let the lady through - she don't need this on her first day 'ere!"

She dragged her eyes down to a hunched over, old man with scruffy long grey hair, squinty eyes, and a snarling face. Despite the fact that he wasn't all that intimidating, the crowd dissipated and the captain scurried off.

The girl stood small and frightened in front of him now with her audience gone. He then turned to her with warm eyes.

"Ginevra, that is how it is pronounced, yes? Do not worry about me; I only keep that caveman exterior up for those ruffians." He laughed a deep, bellowing sound.

The girl herself felt her posture slightly relax and even allowed a small smile to escape.

"Yes, kind sir, it is Ginevra."

His dull green eyes softened even further at her soft and quiet voice, one that could never belong to a haughty noblewoman.

"Welcome to Mercenary Asylum, Lady Ginevra."

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><p>Twenty minutes later, and a long haul up the stairs in the back, the lady and the caretaker stood in front of one of the numerous guest rooms.<p>

"This is the back entrance from, well, the back. It leads straight to your room. There are no other residents, so I do believe you shall be fine. Anything else, milady?"

"Your name." The corners of her mouth twitched as she took in his excitement.

"Oh, yes, of course. Argus, milady, Argus Filch."

"Thank you, Mister Filch." And she truly was grateful for the warm reception she'd gotten from him.

He gave her a knowing look before turning and leaving down the stairs to the next floor. The air suddenly turned cold just with look.

With all pretenses gone, she finally felt like she had before- stripped, exposed, and somber.

She stood outside the door for a full minute before grabbing her bags and marching in promptly -

To be stopped shortly by the sight of a handsome, pale young man sitting on her bed, staring out the window, a cigar dangling elegantly from his fingers.

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><p><strong>xxx DUN DUN DUN. Ohmygod, what do you think will happen next? You know, despite the obvious. ;)<strong>

**NEXT TIME:**

"I'm sure I can, ah, surprise you despite what you may think."

He had a cat called Mistress Norris. She vaguely wondered why.

Argus looked out his window, chilled to the bone by a very familiar sight - the newest occupant standing in the moonlight, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

**xxx**

**If you haven't realized yet, this is a bit of a new take on CoS and the T/G relationship in it of the possessed and possessor. Did I spell it right? No? Oh, well.**

**REVIEW!**

**Love,**

**Toria**


	3. Chapter II

**Disclaimer: I own it. I profit off of it. And I just sit at home and laze around while the money pours in. Yes.**

**I'm sorry it took quite a while to update, but it's still not bad, right?**

**Also, I went back and fixed up the last chapter (which was absolutely horrid previously).**

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><p><strong>The Ballad of Mona Lisa<strong>

**Chapter 2**

_**"There are no raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses. **_

_**It's sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses at the shade of the sheets and before all the stains... **_

_**And a few more of your least favorite things."**_

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><p>The girl stood there, one eyebrow arched, one hand resting on her bag, and one hand resting on her hip. Overall, she gave a rather defiant vibe.<p>

He chuckled softly, so that she would not be able to hear him. Didn't they all look like that - at least in the beginning, until the time when they realized the effect he could have on them if he so wished?

Yes. Yes, they did. However, they had all been of the same type of psychopaths - she seemed different.

He sat there, unmoving, waiting to see how long it would take for her to break.

She refused to speak, steadily becoming infuriated by his silence and presence in what was supposed to be _her _room.

However, as often seemed to be the case with her, Ginevra's temper won over all her other emotions once again.

"Is there a particular reason, sir, that you are in my room?" She spoke with venom laced in each word. You see, even this asylum must value _some _morals and find this condemnable.

He didn't even glance at her while speaking. "As a matter of fact, yes, milady. I wished to speak to you."

She bristled. How dare this stranger treat her as some inconsquential girl!

"I'll have you know, sir, that I personally believe it more appropriate to knock on my door and take my permission before entering or meeting me."

He laughed, his head finally tilting, his dark and messy hair flipping, and his dark red lips opening fully. "I was waiting for that."

Her nostrils flared angrily. "Waiting for what, exactly? Would you please specify?"

He turned his face to smirk at her. "Waiting to see what it would take to rile you up." His words were a challenge, which angered Ginevra to no end.

"Sir, there is no need to be condescending; it doesn't become a gentleman." She replied. Who was he to talk to her like this?

"Do not worry. I am here to do nothing of the sor-"

"Then I do suggest you leave, sir, before you permanently give me a bad impression."

"May I remind you that I'm not the one in handcuffs?"

"Sir! Kindly remove yourself from my room before I call Mister Filch and tell him of your harrassing me!

"All right, calm yourself, milady. I am going, but I shall be back."

"I do not think so."

"I'm sure I can, ah, surprise you despite what you may think."

They were a sight to behold: her, standing in her dark lace and affronted manner, and him, standing now rather informally, smirking at her with dark humor in his eyes.

The stranger strode across the room towards Ginevra (which further proved he had to be about a foot, if not more, taller than her) while she shifted aside, certainly not wanting to come in any contact with him. He gave her one last ominous smile before leaving.

She stood still for a moment after he'd left and then suddenly, with renewed vigor, picked up her bag, marched across the room, and placed it on top of the creaky wooden bed.

She glanced back at the doorframe once before giving up on her inner battle and nearly sprinting across the tiny room to it and peering outside into the darkened hallway.

There was no one in sight.

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><p><em>November 13, 1852<em>

Ginevra bounded down the stairs that morning, in a much more cheerful mood than she was all of yesterday.

Downstairs consisted just of a hallway that led straight to the main door but also had three doors leading to rooms off it. One was Mister Filch's room, one was the well-furnished but slightly dusty parlour, and the last was the small but bright kitchen.

That was where she found the caretaker enjoying his breakfast and cooking hers.

With a snow-white, extremely furry, extremely old, and extremely depressed-looking cat perched next to him.

Now, Ginevra had nothing against cats. In fact, she'd rather adored the one back home that used to lurk around.

However, _this _one gave her a quite distasteful look, and that settled it for both of them. This was not going to be an amiable relationship.

"Ah, Lady Ginevra. How was your night?" Mister Filch said, looking up with a kind smile.

"Fine, thank you. I hope I was no trouble." She replied, a smile finding its way onto her face, as well.

"None at all, my dear. Oh, look at that! Mistress Norris seems to like you!"

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Norris."

The cat growled (since when did cats growl?) and turned its tail upon Ginevra, nearly hitting her with it.

Mister Filch let out a deep laugh, seemingly very amused; Ginevra was less so.

A few minutes later, when she was settled into her seat, she remembered something she'd been wanting to ask all last night.

"Oh, Mister Filch?"

"Argus."

"_Argus_, then. Had you not told me that there it is only I living here?"

"...Yes."

His answer itself was curious enough, but she hadn't missed his slight hesitation. Not at all.

Ginevra walked away from that breakfast with three new revelations to file away about Argus Filch.

One, he was just as kind as he'd seemed yesterday.

Two, he had a cat named Mrs. Norris. She vaguely wondered why anybody would want that cat.

Three, he was hiding something. Something to do with the handsome, rude stranger.

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><p>That night, Argus woke up, panting, in his sweat-soaked bed, despite the fact that the night temperatures were now near-freezing.<p>

Rubbing his eyes, he turned, his heart sinking because he knew what he would see and dreaded it greatly.

Argus looked out his window, chilled to the bone by a very familiar sight - the newest occupant standing in the moonlight, her hazel eyes glassy and unfocused.

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><p><strong>xxx I'm not in a very talkative mood right now. I'm sorry; maybe I'll edit this later *sigh*.<strong>

**School tomorrow after a _wonderful_ four days of being away from it*sigh*.**

**A Geometry test on Tuesday. We're studying Euclidean geometry the whole year, it seems *sigh*.**

**I FEEL like Mistress Norris *sigh*.**

**Anyways, REVIEW! Thank you.**

**Lots of love,**

**Toria**


	4. Chapter III

**Disclaimer: I do _not _own it. Jesus. **

**My nine-year-old brother: DO NOT TAKE THE LORD'S NAME IN VAIN!**

**Me: *sigh***

**I know I haven't updated in forever, but I'm compensating to you readers. At least the ones who read my other stories. I'll tell after this chapter.**

**Enjoy! I like it, even though it may seem a bit rushed.**

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><p><strong>The Ballad of Mona Lisa<strong>

**Chapter 3**

**_"Are you worth your weight in gold?_**  
><strong><em>'Cause you're behind my eyelids when I'm all alone<em>**  
><strong><em>Hey, stranger, I want you to catch me like a cold<em>**  
><strong><em>You and God both got the guns<em>**  
><strong><em>When you shoot I think I'd duck"<em>**

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><p><em>November 14, 1852<em>

Ginevra woke late in the morning in a cold sweat. She looked around, breathing heavily and noting that she more tired than she had when she went to bed last night. She supposed she could attribute to that nightmare she had last night.

Her, entranced by falling snow and walking away and away from a blazing fireplace towards it... But then, suddenly, a silver snake with gleaming emerald eyes materialized out of thin air and wrapped her around both it and the icicle which suddenly seemed a lot colder and sharp than it had before. Behind her, people, people she_ knew_, watched and laughed at her. Her parents, William, Charles, Percival, Frederick, George, Ronald, Hermione, Harry, Duchess McGonagall... Only Chancellor Dumbledore wasn't laughing. He was gazing at her with those twinkling, horrifyingly bright eyes of his. She'd wanted to scream at him, accuse him of luring her into this trap, tell everyone that they were all nothing but useless pawns to him... But she found she couldn't talk at all. The snake's monstrous but blindingly stunning head came into focus and had said something... But she couldn't remember what it was.

She sighed and ran a hand through her messy scarlet curls. Sunlight was pouring in through her lone window and as she rose to look outside, her nightgown caught on one of the wooden bedpost's many splinters. As she started yanking on it furiously since her day was going bad enough and she didn't need anymore frustration, thank you very much, one strong and calloused hand came to rest on her narrow waist while the other's long fingers nimbly removed the satiny fabric from the post.

Ginevra, panicked, whipped around so fast she almost fell, but the hands quickly came to slide her up close to a hard, lean chest. She looked up high to stare into dark enrapturing eyes. The stranger from yesterday.

"It's Tom. Ginevra, right?"

She shook free of whatever spell she'd been under and glared at him, beginning to hotly reprimand him. "First of all, I thought it was clear. I have no wish whatsoever to see you in my room again, uninvited or not. Secondly, I actually think there's no need for introductions if we're never seeing each other again."

He chuckled, still holding her flush against him."Well, that's just too bad. I really was looking forward to getting to know you."

She glowered at him, her hazel and gold eyes smoldering, but then she faltered, for once, as she saw something hidden in his smile. Something mocking, shrewd. And then she realized what had been off about him all along, and she voiced it out loud contemplatively and without question. "You're the snake."

His dark eyes flashed quickly, so that if she hadn't been looking for a reaction, she wouldn't have noticed it. "Pardon?"

"You're the snake. There's no one else that even remotely fits the description - at least, nobody that wasn't already there."

For once, he actually looked bemused. Ginevra thought it odd to see him so quiet and not so all-knowing for once. She explained exasperatedly, "It's a dream. Apparently it's warning me to stay away from you - which I'm trying to do, but you're just making it_ so bloody impossible!_"

He grinned, for once his eyes were glowing in what appeared to be nothing other than pure humor. "What if I don't want to let you go?"

Although she could tell that at least this comment was meant simply in jest, the words themselves caused an unpleasant shiver to crawl down her spine.

Tom noticed and his eyes seemed to darken even more, which Ginevra hadn't thought possible. All of a sudden, he swooped his head and down and kissed her. Hard.

She immediately pushed him away with an anguished cry, "Tom! How dare you! This is crossing the line of all impropriety!" Silently, she lifted a hand to her full, swollen lips. Her first kiss... Stolen by this rude stranger. The supposed snake. Tom.

What she wasn't about to let him know was that electricity had raced down her back, greatly overpowering her last shiver.

He grabbed her hand in one clean move and dragged her closer to him, tilting her face up with his other index finger and forcing her to look him in the eyes. "How dare me? I've done a lot of worse things, Ginevra, things you can't even imagine. But tell me, didn't you think that was more than just some ordinary kiss? You didn't feel the magic? It proves we can be great together. Just give me a chance, Ginevra, and I can be everything you need. And don't deny that you need something, because you wouldn't be here if you didn't."

She looked up at him, thinking they made a vision at that point. Him, dark all over, not a bit of color on him, his tall frame leaning over and holding her, his eyes gazing into hers persuasively. Her, wearing a rose pink night gown, her knees quivering, standing at least a head below him, her red tangled curls flowing and loose, her lips slightly parted in awe of him.

"Please, Tom..."

"I need you to decide now, Ginevra. I can only help you." His voice was too insistent, too persuasive, and as though she was on the outside looking in again, she found herself nodding without thinking about it and her arms hesitantly slipping around Tom's neck and broad shoulders.

He understood her wordless response and pulled her close to him.

It had always been her against the world, who was she to refuse if someon wanted to lessen her burden?

But although the gesture was meant to be comforting, Ginevra couldn't help but feel as if she had just sold her soul to the devil.

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><p><strong>xxxDA DA DA DUNNNN. Stupid girl. And even after I sent her that dream to warn her. I can't blame her, though. He's irresistible. Speaking of which, even though it's rather late to be asking this, what'd you guys think of Breaking Dawn Pt. 1? And of Don 2 (Bollywood)? Spoilers, please! :) Well, that's more for Don than BD. <strong>

**Okay, so your compensation? The next stories updated will be RTD (!) and Kiki Strike. I know, shocking, right?  
><strong>

**REVIEW!**

**Love,**

**Toria**


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